


Tattoo your name across my skin

by Chibiness87



Category: A Discovery of Witches (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode 1.06, F/M, Vampires, Witches, but in a good way, that hurts so bad, this fandom has taken over my soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 21:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibiness87/pseuds/Chibiness87
Summary: And I will wear it proudly for all the world to see





	Tattoo your name across my skin

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Sometimes, writing comes to me easy. Sometimes I have to beat it with a stick, make multiple adjustments, and threaten to delete it to get it to behave. Thankfully, this fic is one of the former. My dissertation, alas, is proving to be more of the latter.

**Tattoo your name across my skin** by **chibiness87**  
**Rating: T**  
**Season/Spoilers** : 1.06.  
**Disclaimer** : Not mine.

 **Summary:** And I will wear it proudly for all the world to see

* * *

 

She knows instantly something is wrong with her back. The pain she has felt along her spine her intensified since returning to Sept-tours, and she has suspected there is more than just a psychological pain. But still, the sudden silence from the three vampires at her back, not to mention the rage she can see feel _taste_ from all of them, but from Matthew especially, has her worried.

Concerned.

There is a tension in the air, more heightened than she has ever felt from him before, and she spins around to see him, her own pain forgotten. His eyes are dark, stormy, awash in a pain she knows is for her, and she hates it. Hates that the man who was laughing with her in bed not 24 hours ago has been reduced to this. Wishes she could turn the clock back and when she woke to find him sleeping had simply stayed there. Reaching for him, apology on her mind, she gives a slight hiss when her top brushes against one of the aching spots on her spine, and she needs to know what has been done to her, if only so she can help to calm him.

Ysabeau and Marthe protest when she insists on seeing her wounds for herself, and she expects the same from Matthew. Fleetingly, she wonders how many times he did this with his own wounds, before pushing that thought away. It surprises her, therefore, when he is the one to lead her to the mirror. He is the one standing beside her, the one who can see her strength.

But is it surprising?

After all, he, more than anyone, knows more of who she really is right now. Her powers are still emerging; she doesn’t know what will come to the fore next. _You have **every** genetic marker we have ever see in a witch_ , he had told her, awe and something more, something deeper, darker, in his tone.

She hadn’t known what it was, then. Had yet to hear that tone in another context to be able to place it. But she knows what it is now. He had used the same tone when she had used her burgeoning powers to fly, and again only moments ago when he called her _lionne_.

Pride.

Is it more than attraction that draws them together, more than her power and his mystery. They are a puzzle to each other, with complex pasts and different upbringings. She was taught to never associate with vampires least they put her in a thrall, knows he had similar stories about witches. She knows he has. _What spell have you put on me?_

There is no magic at work here, no thrall. There is only them, draw to each other, _bound_ together, despite it all. She knew he had picked his side when she was being threatened by Knox in Oxford, the speed of his movement to her side quicker than she thought possible.

She had picked his the night on the riverside when he had had the chance to strike bite claim her, but hadn’t.

The control he had shown, the restraint. And then later, when he kissed her wrist so close to her pulse. She had seen the desire there, the need. His eyes darkening towards his inner vampire self for the briefest of moments. She doesn’t know if he’s aware of the smallest flutter his tongue had taken over her pulse that day, but she is.

Tall, dark, and dangerous; a heady combination, and one that spoke straight to her soul. So of course she picked his side.

Where else, _who_ else, would she choose?

Matthew’s standing beside her now, guiding her to the long mirror by the wall. She leans slightly into his side, feeling his heart for a moment, reassuring him, her, _them_ , that she is here, and safe, and free. He pauses for a second, eyes searching, checking with her she still wants to do this. But it is more than a _want_ , right now it is a _need_ , and he sees it, she knows he does. Her top feels tight against her skin, wounds pulling slightly on the fabric as it is brushed aside, and she takes a breath before forcing herself to turn, to look. To see.

And _oh_. Well. That at least explains the sudden silence. The wounds stand out against her pale skin, red raw and dominating her back. She feels a hatred well up in her against the witch that did this to her. Of all the things she could have done, this, by far, has the biggest effect. But not in the way Stau was expecting.

Because instead of disgust, of fear, instead of feeling branded, she feels Marked. Claimed.

Owned.

She feels _owned_ , the star and crescent moon showing all who would see that she belongs to Matthew, and while she knows she should feel ashamed, knows he is still swimming in guilt and pain that she had to endure this when he brought her here to be _safe_ , all she can feel is proud.

 _Look at me_ , she wants to shout to the world, _see who this vampire, the one you all thought would never Mate, has chosen_.

From what she has learnt from Gerbert, any vampire with a sense of smell would be able to tell they are Mated; they scents almost indistinguishable from each other. Now she has a way of showing any witch or daemon or human who would try to take her away the same thing.

A message.

A warning.

_See who you will have to deal with, see who you will be facing in battle; are you sure it’s worth the risk?_

“Satu said she was going to rip me apart,” she says, taking in the still red insignia across her back, memorising its placement, knowing Matthew has already done the same. Eyes fierce, making sure she meets his gaze, demanding he see her for what she really is. Not merely a victim, a survivor. She is both, but she is so much more. A Bishop mated to a de Clermont. A witch _chosen_ by a vampire. “She failed.” 

* * *

End

Thoughts?

 


End file.
